


press against them when we dance; make them think they stand a chance

by dotgeebee



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: F/F, FatT Femslash Week 2018, palace guard/thief AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 03:30:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15428070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dotgeebee/pseuds/dotgeebee
Summary: A dance and a distraction. Adaire leads; Hella follows.





	press against them when we dance; make them think they stand a chance

**Author's Note:**

> the title is from There Are Worse Things I Could Do from Grease because i'm theatre trash
> 
> inspired by absolutely gorgeous artwork by @SeamonsterArt on twitter for Day 3 of FatT Femslash Week 2018 (https://twitter.com/SeamonsterArt/status/1021883321234743302)

Hella had been watching her all evening.

She’d watched her seemingly appear from behind a curtain as everybody else’s attention had been focused on the grand entrances being made at the other end of the hall, slipping on a mask and blending into the crowd in one practiced movement.

She’d watched her sample every plate of food as they were whisked around the ballroom by experienced butlers, smirking each time they stopped to offer her something, as if they were providing the punchline to a joke only she had heard.

She’d watched her talk to the other guests with such an air of grace and confidence that suddenly everyone keenly remembered the last time they’d met in astonishingly great detail, despite the fact that Hella was sure she’d never seen her here before. She definitely would have remembered someone like her.

She was small and sort of stout and yet moved with a grace and ease that reminded Hella of fencing. Hella had never tried fencing, but she imagined she wouldn’t be very good at it. It took patience, poise, and a lot of spare time and money, and Hella was entirely lacking in all three.

“Care for a dance?”

All of a sudden, she was right in front of Hella, her bright eyes peeking through the mask she was wearing, which was a sort of pale green Hella couldn’t name. Hella had never understood why people had favourite colours until now.

“I’m a guard.” Hella said, no doubt sounding about as dumb as she usually looked.

Her laugh was tinkly, more so than Hella had expected. It sounded like the kind of laugh you developed when you spent all your time buttering up rich people, which was probably the case. “And here was me thinking you were unobservant.” She smiled. “So. Dance?”

Hella frowned. She could imagine the way dancing with her would feel. All of Hella’s harsh lines and cold angles fitting perfectly into her soft curves and warm hands. Hella’s strength, a feature she’d always used for wielding a weapon, being used to effortlessly pick her up and whisk her around the floor. The music ending and Hella inviting her somewhere more private…

She shook her head. “I’m supposed to guard the-”

She waved her hand dismissively and chuckled. “Yes, yes, yes. I’m sure your job’s very important.”

“It is important.” Hella said, folding her arms. Guarding the palace wasn’t the most glamorous occupation in the world, but it paid and it gave her access to the finest armoury she’d ever seen so she wasn’t complaining.

“I suppose so.” She smirked again. It was the most half-assed compliment Hella had ever heard and still she wanted to hear her say it again. “Well, you know what they say, life’s no fun without a little challenge.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re here to steal something?” Hella asked.

“Probably because I am.” She said, cracking a wide radiant grin. With such a blatant confession of guilt, Hella should have been calling in reinforcements and following protocol, but all she could think about was what to say to make her smile like that again.

Hella took a breath and focused. She gripped the hilt of the sword at her hip, the cold metal a swift reminder of what she was here to do. “I’m not sure I should dance with you if-”

She put her hand on Hella’s and even through her gloves, it was just as soft and warm as she imagined. Hella felt her cheeks burning. “Consider this.” She pried Hella’s hand off the sword and took it in her own, and placed her other hand on Hella’s waist. Hella bit her tongue to hold back the sigh that almost escaped her lips. “This way, you can keep a very,  _ very _ ,” she pulled Hella in by her waist until she could feel her breath on her collar bone, “close eye on me.”

Hella tentatively placed a hand on her shoulder. Her calloused hands felt rough against the soft fabric of her dress. 

She smiled at Hella. Her smile was soft and warm and possibly even genuine, just like the rest of her.

Hella felt her stomach muscles twitch under her hand. She laughed and held on tight, pulling Hella into the wave of dancers moving around the room.

For a moment, they moved silently, listening to the music and just… observing each other. This close up, Hella could see that her eyes were a soft brown, like Hella’s but lighter. Hella wondered what she thought of Hella’s eyes. Did she think they were dark and mysterious like the men who tried to distract her in fights? Or would she say something soft and sweet that would make Hella’s insides squirm?

Hella pushed that disturbingly sentimental thought from her mind.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing,” Hella replied.

She smiled and whisked Hella around in circle, and Hella found herself lifting her up into the air. Hella wanted to say something, but she brought a finger to her lips and Hella forgot anything she might have wanted to say. She brought her other hand up to cup Hella’s cheek and for a moment, Hella felt like the entire room had gone silent.

A small voice in the back of Hella’s head was alarmed that her hand felt cold and almost slimy and the skin underneath tingled and that something was definitely wrong, but she ignored it, smiling as the odd sort of pleasant numbness washed over her, emanating from under her hand.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Hella asked. Or at least, she tried to. The right side of her face didn’t appear to be co-operating. Hella touched her cheek, but it felt cold and foreign, like it wasn’t her own.

She slipped out of Hella’s arms and landed gracefully on the floor, discarding her gloves as she went. As Hella’s vision faded, she watched her disappear into the crowd.

* * *

 

Hella awoke the next morning, her head pounding with a headache worse than any she could recall. Given her hazy memory of the night before, she had no idea how she’d even got back to her bed, let alone how she’d changed into her nightclothes and tucked herself in. Hella forced herself to sit up and look around. On the table next to her was a neatly folded note and a familiar pale green mask.

> _ Until next time, _ _   
>  _ _ A _

Hella smiled.


End file.
